I met my kiwi husband 13 years ago in London, I am 48, he is 42 and we have two children, 10 and 7. We moved to NZ October 2019 against my wishes, but my husband always wanted to come back.
It was always an understanding that at some point we would move to NZ but this was decided before children, before my parents became frail and it kept getting put off as we built a successful and comfortable life in London with a close network of friends. I hoped that this would mean we didn’t have to move. By the time he decided we should move, I didn’t want to, but my husband held me to a ‘promise’ I had made 12 years earlier, and despite a lot of arguments, we set the wheels in motion and moved 6 months ago.
Immediately I felt homesick and suddenly realised that I had taken my life for granted, but emotionally I still felt in control and we threw ourselves into finding a house. And when we moved into that house, I looked forward to our container arriving and then it was Christmas. I spent 4 months either expecting things to improve or busy with the holidays. I still cried, we still had arguments, but nothing could prepare me for how I felt when the kids went back to school.
At the start of February it hit me like a ton of bricks that I have left most of my family and all my friends, my career, the home we renovated together, the city I love and my country of birth. It dawned that the rest of my life could be unhappy, living in a place I hate and don’t belong. At almost 50, I don’t really have much chance of building a life that is as fulfilling as my old one - I feel bereft and trapped. The best way I can describe it is that it feels like I’m in a coma and someone is trying to turn off my life support and however hard I try to yell, I can’t make them understand that I’m alive. I feel trapped in a nightmare - I have lost all control over my life. It’s a horror movie. I can’t even look back at last year and all the planning and believe I actually came. It’s a blur. I don’t know how I got on the plane.
Everything I do reminds me of an occasion, place or person from home. Hundreds of times a day. Music makes me sad, photos make me sad, social media makes me sad. I’ve always been the sort of person who can compartmentalise my problems, and still get up every day and find something to enjoy, putting a face on through hard times and still functioning well at work and socially. But now I only function for the children and nothing brings me joy. I have deserted my parents when they need me most, I argue and fight with my husband in front of the children, I don’t earn a living and I am horrible to live with.
Consequently, we are having terrible marriage problems - I’m not playing ball and embracing life as he wants me to, and he says I am negative. He is the classic extrovert and I am a natural introvert but with extrovert ‘cover’ when needed - he thinks I should socialise more to get out of my rut, find a job (after a 24 year career in advertising, I can’t get work for logistical/childcare reasons, age and now probably recession), and is pissed off that I don’t want to hang out with his family all the time (I don’t particularly get on with them). In return I have been absolutely vile to live with, lashing out (not physically) because I blame and resent him for my situation. He is now talking about separation but has said I can’t take the children home so I would have to stay here with 50% access, spending half my time alone in a country I never wanted to live in. I don’t know if I love him, I can’t see the wood for the trees.
I know I am depressed, but what good are anti-depressants, I need a time machine.
If you got this far thank you! There is nothing anyone can do to help but writing it down maybe helped. Or maybe not. 3.30am and I'm done x